Page 142 of Every Chance You Get
Couldn’t if I wanted to.
For several more minutes her pussy contracts until her body starts to sag. About to bust myself, I grab her thighs and she sucks in a sharp breath when I lift her off the ground and press all my weight into her.
“Oh my God!” she gasps.
“Oh my God,” I groan, giving everything I have. Then I maneuver her again—throwing her legs over my shoulders so she’s completely pinned and bent in half against the shower wall.
“Jesus Christ, you’re strong.”
Her praise creates a small curl on my lips, but it fades just as fast because the coil of pleasure in my pelvis breaks free. I grunt and groan, spilling every drop inside her until I’m drained.
We share our labored breathing and kiss until my muscles demand I release her so they canrelax. I collapse on the bench and she stands in front of me—holding my head against her chest.
Mmmm. Boobs.
As soon as I’m clean, I leave Renée to finish getting ready, and I go downstairs. I brew a pot of coffee, and then King and I head to the barn for our morning chores.
Because of Renée’s idea for an animal therapy center, I invested completely in it, right here on our property. Our charity, The Barn Wilde, opened in June, right after the spring rugby season ended. I was worried about how I was going to handle playing premiership rugby while managing a charity, but I’ve found a rhythm, and sticking to a routine has helped me stay on top of things. I still fall short sometimes, but Renée’s right there to remind me that I don’t have to carry everything all the time. I can ask for help, and that’s not a weakness.
Dane has become our charity’s head veterinarian, and Angie helped me find the right therapists to hire. She introduced me to the world of animal therapy, and the more I learned, the more I knew it was the right fit for me.
The barn has changed a bit in the last year. I renovated it with new stalls and a fresh coat of paint. I even had a little cottage built for the charity so the therapists and patients could work inside.
In the last couple of months though, The Barn Wilde has turned into more. Our doctors discovered our musical talents, so we’ve added in music therapy. Teaching and performing for kids and adults in this sort of setting wasn’t something I ever saw for myself when I was playing in my basement band and bars in college, but I’ve never been happier. I get to play music and semi-professional rugby for a living—like, how is this my life?! I also get to work alongside my talented girlfriend.
Talk about rich.
Of course, Renée still holds her position at the university,but she’s working part-time starting next semester, and she can still keep her tenure.
I’ll do whatever it takes to reinforce her safety net. I’ll also do whatever it takes to ensure she never needs one.
“Good morning, everybody,” I sing, swinging the barn door open. The dogs roll out of their hay beds and stretch. “Such good boys,” I say affectionately. “Looks like everyone’s here and accounted for.” I salute them. “Job well done, gentlemen.”
Ginger huffs and snorts her indignation about the alpaca who pesters her every second of the day. I give Timothy some fresh hay and a hearty pet. “Buddy, you gotta trust me on this—it’s never gonna happen with Ginger if you don’t listen to her.”
I feed everyone and sweet-talk them about the family photoshoot, reminding them they need to look their best today. “I’m looking atyou, Rugger! I swear to God if you roll in poop again—”
“Hi Dad,” a little voice coos, and my heart lurches. I turn to find Lo and Delta standing in the open barn doorway, cute as buttons and sporting muck boots with pajamas.
“Which one of you just called me Dad?” I breathe.
Lo raises her hand.
Delta runs up and wraps her arms around me. “Mom said it was okay when we were ready.”
I knew that. Renée and I have talked about it at length and agreed if they wanted to, they could. But... but I didn’t think it would be so soon. Tears form, and I can’t stop them from falling when I blink.
Lo runs over to me, and I sit on the dirty barn floor clutching my girls—my daughters—so tight they think I’m playing. With every giggle and squirm, my lungs constrict and my heart expands to the size of the universe.
I sniffle. “I love you girls so much.”
Pure and sweet enough to give anyone diabetes, Deltakisses me on the cheek. “We love you too, Dad.”
I’m still crying when we finish our chores and walk back into the house. Renée’s made breakfast, but I grab her hand in a drive-by and haul her into the closest room with a door, and hold her.
“They called me Dad,” I cry into her shoulder.
She smooths gentle hands up and down my back while it shakes uncontrollably. “Oh, baby... That’s wonderful. I’m so happy.”
“Me too,” I try to say, but choke on my own tears. “I’ve never been this happy before.” I sniffle. “No offense.”
She laughs quietly, but she’s crying too. “None taken. I know what you mean. Welcome to being a parent, Jonah.”
THE END
